


five times someone told Skye who she was, and one time they didn't

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Activism, Awkward Flirting, Gen, Growing Up, Hacking, Loneliness, Misogyny, Orphans, Running Away, Skye over the years, Skye's backpack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-03 01:36:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4081525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Celebrating Skye over the years for her birthday!</p>
            </blockquote>





	five times someone told Skye who she was, and one time they didn't

_1\. Seven_

“Sweetie, you should smile. Has anyone ever told you how pretty you look when you smile?”

“Wednesday Adams never smiles.”

She narrowed her eyes at the sandy haired boy that looked not a thing like her.  Not his eyes, not his nose, not his mouth.  Nothin’.

“Don't tease her,” the woman said, jerking on his arm.  
  
She looked up at her.  How her huge hair didn’t topple over when she leaned that much forward amazed her.  
  
There was no way this was her mom. Her mom was somewhere out there. Somewhere far away.

For a _real_ reason. Maybe saving the world, even.

She just knew it. All the best orphans had cool parents.

Except Luke Skywalker.  His dad wasn’t so great.

And dead parents.

Forget it.

The camera flashed and she pulled up the corner of her mouth as it flashed again.  
  
She didn't want to go back to the orphanage, that’s all.

At least these people didn't make her recite Bible verses. She just had to sit still on Sundays and be very quiet while she thought about being 18 and how she would put on a backpack then, like the one she wore to school.

But this one would be bigger.  It would have a map and a compass and some clothes.

And a curling iron.

She would go _everywhere_ until she found them.

 

_2\. Twelve_

“Someone’s told you you're special, right?”

“Only all my life,” she replied, cocky, tipping back the chair on one leg, looking around the office for anything…useful.  
  
“Well, you're not,” he said, flatly. “We see kids like you all the time. And do you know where they end up?”  
  
She rolled her eyes, then, bingo.  There was a picture pinned to the board behind him, of him with a woman.  Only her face was covered haphazardly beneath a pile of post-its. She looked at his hand and the missing ring. 

“Wherever your wife did?”  
  
“Jail, that's right,” he said, slapping his hand on the desk to get her attention.

His face turning a shade of red as he just caught on to what she'd said.

“Or on the streets. Dead. Do you feel like being a statistic- “  He looked down at her case folder- “Mary Sue? Because that's where you're headed.”  
  
“That's not my name,” she said, putting the legs of the chair back on the floor. “And she tried to cut my hair,” she said, touching a very short piece on the side of her head. “Even though I said I didn't want it. She said I might as well look like a boy if I acted like one.”  
  
“Fighting with your fists might give some people that impression.” 

“Do you know how many female four star generals have existed in U.S. history, Mr. Fischer?” 

He opened his mouth, then closed it. 

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.  One.  Do you think anyone worried about _her_ throwing a punch?” 

“So, military academy? Is that what you’re asking for?” he asked, scratching his mustache in irritation.  
  
“No.  I don’t want to wear her stupid dresses and look like I arrived here by covered wagon. I'm a human being, not a hobby.”  
  
“Well then,” he said, closing her file. “I’ll send you back to the orphanage.  But, you’d better stay put.  And stay in school.” 

“Thank you,” she said, standing up, holding onto her backpack. “And for the record, I only shoved her.” 

“You know the drill,” he said, closing the door after her.  

 

 _3\. Sixteen_  

“You're not like all the other girls,” he said leaning towards her.

She paused, then slid away closer to the car door.  
  
“What's wrong with the other girls?”

Why was _she_ always the one that wasn't like anyone else?  

She just wanted to be normal for once.  
  
“What's wrong with your face?” he asked, sounding put off.  
  
She realized her lip had curled into a sneer.

Nevermind that he was into unexplained phenomena and knew everything about Area 51.  

He was still just another jerk.  
  
“Okay.  We're done,” she said, reaching for the handle of the door.  
  
“Hold on. I'm sorry, okay?” he said, putting his hands up in surrender.

Nope.  He wasn't here to talk or to get to know her.  Not really.  
  
“Me too,” she agreed.  
  
She leaned forward quick and grabbed her backpack out of the front seat, then swung open the back door.  
  
“Mary Sue!” he called after her, leaning out the door, as she crossed the field towards the highway.   
  
“We're in the middle of nowhere!!!” he yelled when she didn't stop.  
  
“Never should've let him talk me into this,” she muttered to herself.  “Marfa lights my ass.” 

“Your dad is going to kill me!!!!” she heard him scream in the distance. 

“He’s not my dad!” she yelled back.

She stuck out her thumb when she reached the highway. 

And kept walking.  

 

_4\. Nineteen_

“You're different.”

“I also just took all of your money,” she said, lifting the stack of cash from the table. “Bet that's different, too.”  
  
“Wow. Kick-ass hacker _and_ could win third place in a wet t-shirt contest.”  
  
“Y'know, was kinda feeling sorry for you, but now I'm not,” she said, disgust dripping from her voice.  
  
“My parents have a house on the lake, and they're gone for the summer,” he said, circling around the table towards her, closing down his laptop.  
  
“Rich kid, figures,” she counted the money just to be sure, and put it in the inside pocket of her jacket.  
  
“You could hang out,” he said, trying to lean into her view. “All expenses paid, if you know what I mean?”  
  
“Why don't you just write me a check that way you can pay me back for insulting me in almost every way imaginable?”  
  
“It’s better than sleeping in a van,” he said.  
  
“I take that back,” she said, looking even more insulted. “It was an absolute pleasure taking your money.”  
  
She put her laptop away into her pack and zipped it shut, satisfied knowing that money wasn't the only thing she came here for.

“By the way, do your parents know your college education was a _total_ waste of their money?” 

He just laughed at her, shaking his head.  
  
“Loser,” she said, putting her pack on and walking out of the apartment. 

“This was kind of like a date, right?” he said after her.  “Can I call you?” 

She kicked the door shut behind her and decided to take her rage out on something more worthwhile. 

 

_5\. Twenty Two_

"I know you're not the kind of girl that needs someone to take care of you."

"God, Miles," she said, stuffing her clothes into her backpack. "This is not about that."

"I never promised joining the Rising Tide would make you rich," he shrugged.  "Or get you answers about your parents."

"You never promised?" she stopped. "I never asked you to make me a promise, Miles."

"I just don't understand why you need to go it alone.  Tony Stark kind of has a reputation."

"We've been through this. I'm going to see if it's a backdoor into SHIELD.  They've managed to keep me out and this could be my way in."

She crossed her arms at him, as he looked around the room, watching her take all the little pieces he had of her and put them into her backpack.

"Do _you_ want to be on SHIELD's radar?" she asked.

"Of course not," he said, walking towards her and putting his arms around her.

She felt his lips press against the top of her head.

"If it ends up being a dead end, I'll be back."

"That's if SHIELD doesn't throw you into one of their secret gulags," he frowned.

"They haven't yet," she said, looking up at him with a cocky smile.

"You're not leaving until the morning, right?" he asked.

"Uh huh."

"Then I've got all night," he said, walking back with her towards his bedroom. "To remind you what a big mistake you're making." 

"Give it your best shot," she laughed.

 

_6\. Twenty Six_

“You’d be a great help.” 

This had probably been the craziest 24 hours of her life. 

He was serious, though.

“And you'd be front row center at the strangest show on earth,” he added. “Which is, after all, what you wanted.” 

What she wanted was something else entirely, but he was making getting to it sound pretty irresistible.

She wanted to laugh.   _Her?_   Working for SHIELD? 

He was kind of cocky, too, but not in a bad way. 

The suit, the car.  _Hot_ car.  Those blue eyes weren’t so bad, either. 

“I was able to hack SHIELD from my van,” she reminded him, getting her head back in the game. “You're gonna show me something new?” 

“Go,” he said, when the com came on. 

“Sir, we've got an 0-8-4,” Ward responded. 

Coulson looked excited. “Is that confirmed?” 

“They want us to go in and confirm it.” 

“What’s an 0-8-4?” she asked.  She _hated_ not knowing things, especially if they were cool. 

Now he just looked outright smug. “You've got exactly 10 minutes to decide if you really want to know.” 

He was playing her.  That was all.

He flipped a button in the center console.

“There's no way we can make it to the airfield in-“ 

She had to take it back. Looking over the side of Lola, they were already several feet in the air.

The man had a flying car.

“The tide is rising,” he said, with perfect timing, as he slid on his aviators. 

_This guy._

How could she say no?


End file.
